Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mongolia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Oneida,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Von Mondo,
Procol Harum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABBA,
Hardrive,
Depeche Mode,
Aural Exciters,
Sex Pistols,
Bob Dylan,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
X-102,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
Amazonics,
The Index,
The Fall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
World's Most,
Sexual Harrassment,
DJ Style,
New Order,
The Dirtbombs,
Young Marble Giants,
Deakin,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blues Magoos,
Vainqueur,
Scratch Acid,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Wake,
Lower 48,
The Misunderstood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed,
John Cale,
Groovy Waters,
These Immortal Souls,
Absolute Body Control,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang of Four,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.